A Wife's Heart
by maddyupstairs
Summary: This morning, Rosie remembers the evening before she married Samwise Gamgee. A repost, with some changes.


Disclaimer: Not mine.

Rating: K+

Category: One-shot.

000

A Wife's Heart

By maldita

000

It is during this time of day, when the sun has not yet completely risen and the dew still clings to the stalks of her husband's sunflowers, that Rose allows her mind to wander where it will. The house is quiet; she is the only one awake. She would think of this or that as she went about her morning chores: firing up the oven, pumping water for the porridge, kneading the dough for the bread. Some days she thought of the weather, some days she thought of the laundry.

Really, not serious or gloomy thoughts at all. Just ordinary, everyday things.

But on a few rare mornings, Rose would find herself reminiscing, nostalgia settling upon her heart like a warm blanket.

Today seems like one of those days, Rose thinks to herself as she sprinkles more flour on her dough. Today she remembers the night before she had married Sam.

She remembers that her father had asked her if she was certain of her choice for a husband.

Now, normally any self-respecting, affianced lady hobbit would be severely put out that her own father dared to ask such a question. And on the eve of her wedding day, to boot! Rose remembers that she had been surprised to say the least and had stopped sewing on the last lacy eyelet on her wedding veil.

"Dad!" she had exclaimed, "I am very much aware that it is typical for the father-of-the-bride to cast disparaging remarks on his daughter's betrothed, but I was under the impression that you adored Sam!"

Her father had shuffled into her room, closing the door quietly behind him. And the expression on his face… it was the first time Rose had ever seen her father, her loud, vigorous father, look so _old_. It alarmed her, for no child of any age would ever acknowledge his or her parents' mortality with equanimity. He sat down beside her with a sigh, the mattress of her maiden's bed creaking in protest. She had laid down her veil with care and touched his hand.

"Dad?" she asked, feeling the butterflies that had been quietly fluttering in the pit of her stomach all day turn into bees.

He smiled and patted her hand. "Ah, Rosie my girl, I apologize for troubling you with this old hobbit's insecurities. And I do adore Sam, make no mistake about that! He is a hobbit any father would be proud to call son-in-law." He paused here, gaze becoming contemplative, and looked out the window into the night.

"But…?" she had prodded.

"But he has experienced so many things, gone on so many adventures—"

"Oh, dad!" she laughed, her nervousness dissipating a bit. "I am not marrying him for his fame, or for any other reason other than the fact that I love him."

"And that is the cause of my worries!" He had made a clucking sound at the back of his throat, which he only did when he was anxious or agitated. "Ah, I am not explaining myself well. Rosie, love, it is the dream and wish of every father to watch his daughter marry one who would give his whole heart to her."

Rose could hardly have believed her ears. "What are you saying, dad? Is Sam in love with someone else?"

"No! No, of course not," he said and moved to smooth the crease on her forehead with blunt, calloused fingers. "Sam loves you, as much as any male hobbit can love a female hobbit… and that, that is what I'm trying to say. No matter how much he loves you, I'm very much afraid that you will never hold the whole of his heart."

Rose remembers looking at her father's round, sad face, as her heart beat slow and loud in her ears. "Because of all his adventures with Frodo and the rest."

"Yes," he sighed. "Strong bonds are formed between comrades-in-arms in the battlefield, bonds that no female could ever begin to understand. These bonds are… unbreakable, and will forever hold parts of Sam's soul and heart that a wife will never be able to breach."

The two of them had stared out into the night for a long moment, both seeing in their minds' eyes a group of four hobbits trekking across the land with nothing but the rucksacks on their backs, Sam's pots and pans striking one another from time to time.

"I know," she said finally, looking at the white dress hanging from her cupboard door. "I _know_ this, dad. I—I see it in his eyes, sometimes, when he speaks of Merry and Pippin, of the wizard and the Big Folk, of Frodo. I know." She turned to smile at her father, who looked as though he was quite ready to cry. "But I love him regardless. Sam has my whole heart."

"Your love," he had sighed, "will be unequal."

"Yes," she remembers saying, hugging her father fiercely, "but it will be more than enough. And I will be happy."

And she _has_ been, Rose smiles as the kitchen begins to smell heavily of baking bread. Her marriage has given her nothing but laughter and the bone-deep happiness that only raising thirteen beautiful children alongside a kind and wonderful husband can bring. Marrying Samwise Gamgee was quite possibly the best thing she had ever done and if sometimes, during the months when the cold winds would blow from the East, she would catch her husband gaze longingly toward the West…

Well, a wife's heart can hold many things. Even the love of a husband not for herself or their children.

And speaking of children… "Breakfast!" she calls over her shoulder in a voice only a mother of over a dozen young ones can have, "you lot get in here this instant!" She wipes her hands of the flour, puts all sad thoughts firmly behind her, and faces the start of a new day.


End file.
